


Addictions can Hurt

by KidaCakes



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Barebacking, Blood, Bloody Kisses, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fighting, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Roughness, Smoking, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:17:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8332531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KidaCakes/pseuds/KidaCakes
Summary: Ma told me ta avoid vices, as she took a drag off her cigarette. Don't give in to wickedness or temptation 'cause ya won't be happy where they lead ya. The smoke curled and twisted in the air, making her warning seem more like one of her readings that she'd give to the rubes that believed her. Well, Ma, you were right. But she ain't never been tempted by a vice like Rick Sanchez.





	

**Author's Note:**

> First fic for the Stanchez Micro-Bang! Other fics and art [here](http://stanchez-bang.tumblr.com)!
> 
> [Awesome Art](http://biteinsane.tumblr.com/post/image/152066802990) by [biteinsane](http://biteinsane.tumblr.com)! My bloody kisses bud! 
> 
> Shout out to my betas @beta_19 and @Stellar_Anarchist

Blood dripped from his forehead, trickling down the side of his face. He let out a low growl and spat out a mix of saliva and blood (from his split lip). Rick stood back up on shaking, lanky legs, clad in tight, black jeans. His low hanging muscle shirt was torn and spattered with blood, the bright blue darkened to a blackish-purple where the blood landed. A few scrapes and scratches decorated his arms and chest. There were even some on his back from the hard concrete wall that he was slammed against earlier. Rick’s eyes narrowed and he lunged forward, ducking down low to the ground before standing straight up as he got right in front of the broad figure in front of him. His hand balled into a fist as he stood, solidly connecting with the other’s jaw.

Stan let out a loud grunt and stumbled back a step, holding his jaw. He reached out and grabbed the blue haired man by his skinny little throat, his huge hand almost wrapping around the entirety of it. He squeezed and brought the other close, glaring hard, his jaw already an angry red and blood dripped from his nose. 

“You're a fucking asshole, Sanchez. You're lucky I don't kill ya.” Stan growled out, his breathing labored from the fighting, body slick with sweat and peppered with blood from the both of them.

“Heh, like you could kill m-me! Y-y-you wouldn't get your fix anywhe _eruuup_ re else.” The shit eating grin on Rick’s face made Stan close his fist a little tighter. He saw Rick open his mouth, trying to get oxygen back into his deprived lungs. Felt the blood pulsing under his hand. Felt Rick's throat spasm. If he continued this, he really could kill him. But, fuck, if the cocky shit wasn't right.

Rick heard his blood pounding in his ears as his eyes and face prickled. Then he felt the hand loosen slightly before lips crashed against his own. The kiss was hard, violent, teeth gnashing, blood and spit being swapped. He fucking _loved_ it. His arms went around Stan’s neck, fingers gripping brown locks tight before his nails raked down pale flesh until they dug into his shoulder blades. 

Stan growled low in his throat as he felt Rick claw at him. His free hand buried itself into Rick’s hair, tangling there and yanking to pull his head back. The gasp he let out sounded exquisite to Stan’s ears. The hand around Rick’s throat moved down to his hip in a painfully tight grasp, pulling him flush against the other's body. There were going to be bruises there. Stan kissed and bit his way along the angular jaw, down to his neck. A trail of deep, purplish-red marks left in his wake. 

Rick moaned as the pain mixed with pleasure, tilting his head to the side to give Stan more access to the bruised expanse of flesh. Not being one to refuse an offer such as this, Stan licked Rick’s pulse point before moving to sink blunt teeth into the prominent collarbone. The reaction was instant - Rick’s gasp, the jerk of his hips forcing his erection to grind into Stan’s thigh, black polished nails digging even harder into flesh enough to almost break the skin. He sucked on the spot for a moment longer than was pleasurable before pulling away, kissing along a narrow shoulder. He nipped softer, though not by much, along until his mouth came in contact with the strap of the ratty, bloodied muscle shirt Rick wore. 

Both of Stan’s hands went down to the hem of the offending garment, pausing long enough to move his head back before yanking the top up and off of Rick. Rick had to take his hands off of Stan, blood now under his painted nails. Not one to be on uneven grounds, Rick used his now unoccupied hands to tug up at Stan’s blood spattered white shirt, getting it up to his armpits before growling in frustration. 

“Heh, looks like I'm not the only one eager for a fix, huh, Sanchez?” Stan said, despite the pain in his jaw, he sent a mocking smirk Rick's way. 

The other glared, tugged harder until Stan lifted up his arms, letting the battered genius finally take off his shirt. Rick tossed it somewhere off to the side on the filthy, back alley ground. The small distance they had between them closed now that the task was done. Bare chests pressed against one another, feeling the heat of the other was like setting their skin ablaze, fanning the flames of desire and desperation even more. Rick pressed his hips hard against Stan’s, eliciting a hiss and a low groan as their clothed erections pressed painfully, teasingly, against together. 

Rick smirked, leaning in until his lips were just a hair's breath away, the smell of booze and cigarettes strong on his breath. “I'm always ready to-to fuck, Pines. I live to de-- live in sin. _Mierda_ , pero me encanta pecar contigo más.” He finished with a quirk of his lips before pressing them to Stan’s in the sweetest kiss they ever had. Which, wasn't all that sweet; the taste of iron, alcohol, smoke, and unnamed drugs flavored the kiss. It was devoid of teeth, just plump and swollen bloody lips against lips, tongues touching, caressing, not even fighting anymore. Just needing _more_ of each other, as if the ground would open up and swallow them whole if they parted now. They were on their way down to the pits anyway but they still had many years of sinning ahead of them to get there.

Stan broke away first with a gasp, not even far enough that the strand of saliva connecting their mouths broke, panting heavy breaths warming Rick's face. In the dim light of the alley, under the grime and blood, he was flushed and eyes bright. Rick loved how Stan looked as adrenaline mixed with arousal coursed through him. He wanted to make him look even more wrecked and to come undone underneath his touch.

Dropping to his knees, not caring if he landed on broken glass (which he luckily didn't), as long, deft fingers making quick work of the buckle and zipper keeping Stan’s jeans up and closed. Rick pulled them down to just under the swell of his ass, leaning forward to leave a long, wet stripe along his clothed, throbbing cock. He gave a slight chuckle at hearing the groan from above before doing it again, mouthing the thick head until the fabric was damp and sticking to the heated flesh. Thick fingers threaded through his blue locks before gripping tight, angling his head to look up, seeing Stan’s face shadowed.

“Be a good little faggot, Sanchez, and suck me properly,” Stan said the insult without malice, voice gruff, eyes shining in the darkness. He looked intimidating and desperate.

Rick grinned, bloody teeth glinting in the dim light before his hands pulled down the last barrier separating him from his goal. He leaned forward, even with Stan’s grip keeping his head tilted up and their eyes locked, he presses a teasing kiss to the swollen head. Stan let out a growl and tightened his grip, making Rick wince and groan softly. Getting the message, Rick opened his mouth, letting the head slip in, swirling his tongue around the tip, still teasing. One hand gripped the base of Stan’s thick shaft as his other went to work undoing his skull belt buckle. 

Sucking lightly, letting his tongue apply pressure around the sensitive head, Rick watched as Stan's eyes closed in pleasure, fingers twitching in his hair. Rick started moving his hand slowly, up and down the shaft, using some of his spit as lube to glide easier. Inch by inch, Stan’s cock disappeared into Rick's mouth until he started bobbing his head, working a good portion of cock in and out of his suckling mouth. After he finished with the belt buckle, Rick unzipped his pants, pushing them down enough so his cock could springfree, having gone commando that night. He wrapped his hand around his own erection, pulling back the foreskin from the slick, swollen head. Rick groaned around the cock in his mouth as he started a slow pace with his stroking, feeling himself thicken and throb in need. 

Stan used his hold on Rick’s hair to guide his mouth along his shaft, pushing him further down until he gagged. He waited a moment before letting Rick pull back and did it again. He groaned, nails scraping against Rick's scalp as profanities and “Such a nice mouth ya got,” and, “That's it, baby, nice and deep,” and, “Yes, _fuck Rick_ ,” tumbled from his lips. 

After Stan forced Rick down his dick for the what seemed like the fiftieth time, that he finally let go of the blue locks he had been gripping. Rick sat back on his legs, panting. Dick still in hand, mouth hanging open with even more swollen lips, Rick looked up at the man looming above him, the sight making Rick's dick twitch in his hand. 

“You’re a good little cocksucker, Sanchez,” Stan said, stroking his thick fingers through sweat slicked blue hair before yanking hard, forcing Rick to stand up again. 

Their lips met in a brief, heated kiss. When they broke apart, Stan spun Rick around, pressing him against the rough alley wall, the coarse concrete scraped against his chest. Rick groaned, pushing his ass out a bit in invitation, pants having already slipped down.

“No underwear, huh? Looks like ya were expecting ta get fucked,” Stan leaned in, pressing his chest against Rick’s back and licking the outside shell of his ear, making Rick shiver. “Such a hungry, little slut. Don't worry, I won't let you go hungry any longer.”

Rick felt Stan slide his cock between his cheeks, rolling his hips slowly, letting his cock tease against Rick's opening. Stan did this again, and again, and again, while one hand went to play with a nipple and the other gripped a slender hip painfully tight. Rick had the side of his face pressed against the cool stone wall, panting and whining. The teasing made him squirm and press back for more only to have Stan pull back before continuing his torture.

“ _Mierda Lee_!” Rick exclaimed as Stan pulled back once again from where he rubbed against Rick’s entrance. "Joderme, joderme ya! J-just fuck me already!”

Stan chuckled, he loved how worked up and needy Rick got. Stan finally complied with Rick's demand. He pushed hard against Rick until he slipped the head of his cock in past the tight ring of muscles, a hiss of pleasure coming from both of them. He worked more in at a slow but steady pace, making Rick cuss in Spanish from the pain and pleasure of being filled. The familiar burn of being stretched and going in dry except for spit and precum washed over him. It hurt so _good_. 

Stan didn't stop until his pelvis made contact with Rick's ass, pushed in as deep as he could go from that angle. He groaned low in his throat from the tight vice around him, feeling the twitching muscles clench and quiver. It was the most breathtakingly exquisite feeling in the world. After a minute or so of enjoying the tight heat and letting Rick adjust to the intrusion, he pulled back until just the head was in before sliding all the way back in. The deep moan that Rick let out had Stan’s cock twitch inside him. He kept a slow, deep pace, working Rick open and trying to allow more precum to lube the passage to make the thrusting smoother.

“Ahh, f-fuck, moooore, I need, I need more, Lee... Faster, pl-plea-- ohh _yes_!” Rick cried out as Stan picked up speed, thrusting faster into him. His nails scraping against the wall as his fingers curled into fists, feeling his chest rub against the unforgiving concrete. His chest was going to have some nasty scrapes afterwards but he didn't care; it just made the pleasure more intense. 

Sweat dripped down Stan's face as he set a punishing pace. He knew that the skinny punk would be aching tomorrow - from the fight and the fuck. Stan panted against Rick’s neck, voice ragged from effort of talking while still thrusting. “Tell me what ya want, sweetheart. Be-” Stan groaned deeply against the side of Rick’s neck, “-real clear.”

Rick knew what he wanted and, usually, he’d be more of a shit before giving in. He was so close that he would've sang the alphabet if it meant he would be able to cum. “I-I wanna c-cuuum, Lee! Pl-please, Lee baby, let me cum… C-cum in me, por favor, tú hermoso cabrón!”

“Nnngh… Good boy. Cum for me, Rick.” Stan sunk his teeth into Rick's shoulder, biting him almost hard enough to break skin. It was the trick to push him over the edge. That and hearing his first name being growled out with lust from Stan. 

A few thick ropes of cum hit the wall, Rick's untouched dick bobbing with each spurt before the rest trickled down the underside of his cock. The tight heat constricted around Stan’s cock, sending his own need to find release hurdling down on him. He was able to thrust two more times before hilting himself in as deep as he could go, his cock throbbing as he filled Rick, groaning low against the shoulder he still had his teeth in. 

They stayed like that for a long moment, each breathing hard as they came down from their orgasmic high. Stan released his hold on Rick's shoulder, giving it a few soft kisses before moving up his neck, peppering the bruised flesh with feather light pecks. He reached Rick's ear, breathing out against the heated, damp flesh.

“Worth your while?”

Rick shivered and shook his head, “N-no, it was pretty-pretty average. Give you a five, m-maybe a six, on the fu _uuugh_ cking scale.”

Stan rolled his eyes, giving one more uncharacteristically gentle kiss to Rick's neck before he pulled out slowly. He tugged his jeans up all the way and tucked himself back in, watching Rick grab his own ruined shirt to clean himself up before doing the same. 

Stan fished out his slightly crushed pack of smokes, tossing one to Rick as he lit his own, holding the open flame of the lighter out. 

“W-what a gentlemen,” Rick said as he bent forward to light his own cigarette. 

“Ya know me, all class,” Stan said with a deep chuckle reverberating in his sore chest, lit cigarette between his lips.

Rick leaned back on the wall he was just fucked against, a smile curling around the butt of the cigarette as the cherry burned bright. Even in the dim lighting, the cuts and scrapes against Rick's chest were visible, some even had bled a little. He was pretty banged up from Stan’s right hook and brutal thrusting.

Stan thought how much of a turn on it was and how messed up that made him. He decided he didn't care. He picked up his sullied shirt, shaking it out before he tugged it on, mindful of his cigarette. It was still spattered with blood, a few tears, and now smeared with dirt and grime. Can't be too picky when strapped for cash. It still had a few uses in it, even if it just became a brawl shirt or cleaning rags.

Stan shuffled a bit, reality settling heavy in his gut, ash dropped to the ground before he spoke. “Y’know I’m not, uh, not--”

“Y-yeah, yeah, I know. W-whatever helps you sleep at night,” Rick interrupted, waving his hand dismissively with the cigarette between two fingers, the smoke marking the path in wisps before dispersing. 

Last drag, cigarettes flicked to the ground, they dragged themselves back to Stan’s car, ready to find a place to crash for the night. 

The arrangement between them was undefined. A one night stand after a bar fight led to them riding together, pulling scams and petty crimes, fighting and fucking. It wasn't healthy, whatever they had, but it worked for them.

Being with Rick was like smoking: you knew you shouldn't, that it's bad for you, but you do it anyway. Rick would probably kill him one day. Just like the smoking. Stan would enjoy every inhale of poison until he kicked the addiction or took his last breath.


End file.
